


The Good Place Drabbles

by dreamsofspike



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-02-10 22:32:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12921594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/pseuds/dreamsofspike
Summary: All my drabbles for The Good Place, so far just Eleanor/Michael but probably others in the future :)





	1. The Upper Hand

The thing that makes the difference is her  _not_  just spilling out the information the moment it occurs to her that this might not be the Good Place after all.   
  
Instead, this time, she's quiet and plays along and waits until she's sure she's alone to call on Janet and ask her what sorts of weapons and/or controls might exist for dealing with... oh, say, a rogue Bad Place architect that might have somehow made his way into the Good Place, and she knows, she knows that's impossible, of course it is, it's okay, Janet, just... just theoretically... what  _would_  someone use if faced with such a monstrous evil creature, and... could she possibly  _get_  such tools and/or weapons... just for novelty's sake?  
  
Of course she can, because there's nothing Janet can't get for her, so all that's left to do is to wait until she's alone with Michael, and make herself cry... wait, while he moves in close, all fatherly sympathy and affection... wait until he's close enough that she can make her move.


	2. Wings

She's really too smart for his own good; it was only a matter of time before her mind made the journey from "Michael's a demon (ish)" to "demons are fallen angels, right?" to "Wait... don't angels have  _wings_?"   
  
He hedged and evaded, but she pressed and coaxed and tempted in a way that put any of his own efforts to shame, distracting him with soft touches and whispering dark promises into his ear until he finally agreed to show them to her - and so here he is, eyes closed, face flaming as he kneels at her feet so that she can reach, because they're twice as tall as she is in their physical form.   
  
Her fingers run gently through silken black feathers, and he shivers, closing his eyes and turning his head away; until he feels her warm, small hand against his cheek, reluctantly looks into her awestruck eyes as she whispers, "They're  _beautiful_ , Michael...  _you're_  beautiful."


	3. "What's This Button Do?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 100-Word Drabble for prompt: "pressing an unlabeled button that makes everyone suddenly start speaking in a different language at once"

"But it's wrong! No matter whose ethical theories you espouse..."  
  
"But Vicky's getting suspicious! I'm telling you, we need to speed things along..."   
  
"I'd say we certainly do; I've a massage scheduled in twenty minutes. May I go?"   
  
"Ooh! Can I watch? And maybe take pictures?"   
  
"Hey... what's this button do?"   
  
An instant later, they're all speaking at once, each in their own language, as the language filter technology that allows them all to understand each other is turned off. Eleanor quickly pushes the button again, looking sheepish as all eyes turn toward her with varying degrees of annoyance.   
  
"Oops."


	4. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a 100-Word Fill, only 300 instead ;) 
> 
> Michael/Eleanor

"So... kissing is 'gross', huh?"   
  
"Unequivocally disgusting," Michael confidently affirms, sitting back in his chair and surveying the office he'll be leaving behind forever in just a few hours. He's distracted by his thoughts, and so doesn't see Eleanor coming until he idly turns his chair, and she's standing practically between his legs, giving him a dark, calculating look that sets a strange shivering sensation deep in his stomach.   
  
"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, buddy." Her words are light, but her tone is low and knowing.   
  
She leans in, placing a hand on the back of his chair and pushing him back a little, off-balance. He lets out a startled yelp of protest, but it's silenced by her mouth on his, her free hand cupping the back of his head, fingers sliding through his hair and refusing to allow him his automatic attempt at escape.   
  
And then... he doesn't exactly want to, anymore. The sensations washing over him are foreign and overwhelming and unquestionably just so very...  _human_ , and... he has to admit, anything but "gross". She pulls back before he's ready, smirking at him when he automatically leans forward in his chair, seeking continued contact. She lets go of him and steps back, leaving him staring after her as she turns and walks away.   
  
She stops at the door, turning back for a moment with an easy smile that's a lot more like the Eleanor he's come to know, as she shrugs a little. "Just thought, since we're all probably about to die in a few hours, that's... one human experience you shouldn't die without... experiencing."   
  
He swallows slowly, his mouth dry, his voice hoarse. "Th-thank you?"   
  
Her eyes light up, warm and affectionately amused. "Anytime," she replies softly before closing the door behind her.


End file.
